Fifteen Minutes

Below is somewhat of a journal entry I wrote on the flight from Norfolk to Whidbey.

Fifteen minutes is 900 seconds, one quarter of an hour, one-onehundreth of a day - not nearly enough time to accomplish much of anything, not even a good nap but when you find yourself in a moment of crisis fifteen minutes is hours, days, an eternity.
I recently experienced the worst fifteen minutes of my life. The date was November 1st, 2007 – my birthday. The place was Baltimore, Maryland – more specifically I-95 around mile marker 20. My family spent the first part of our day in Philadelphia, PA visiting some of our nation’s most treasured and historic sites and were heading back home with hopes of being just ahead of rush hour traffic. The event is etched in my memory forever, it keeps replaying over and over in my head. We were driving along just getting into Baltimore when I noticed Matt look back at Gabriel and then call his name. I immediately turned to see what was going on and caught my first glimpse of Gabriel convulsing. Being the calm, cool, collected person that I am . . . I started screaming hysterically. I think I was yelling at Matt to pull over (which he was already doing) to call 911 (which he would do as soon as we got to the side of the freeway) and yelling Gabriel’s name hoping that my sheer will would pull him out of his current state. Once we were on the side of the road I jumped out of the car and began trying to get Gabriel out of his carseat. As I was struggling with the buckles all I could do was watch as his eyes were rolled back in his head, his lips were turning blue, and his little body was jerking out of control. I pulled him out of the seat and out of the car and just held him as his seizure continued. He was breathing, and with that knowledge came slight relief, even in that moment. His body jerked one last time, his legs went really stiff, and then his whole body went limp. I started crying out to God “Please God, please make him be OK”. Gabriel was listless, unresponsive and unconscious for the next 7 minutes or so. I couldn’t get him to wake up. Matt was trying to direct the ambulance to our specific spot on the freeway, and I just held Gabe begging him to please just say “mommy”. Oh, just to hear his sweet little voice say my name! He never called my name, but he started to moan a little and by the time the ambulance arrived at the scene he was conscious and crying.
He and I traveled by ambulance to the closest hospital and Matt and Eli followed in the car. At the hospital he quickly received IV fluids, antibiotics, a chest x-ray and some blood tests. After a few hours at the hospital in Baltimore, his doctor transferred him to Children’s Hospital in Washington D.C. for further tests. Matt stayed with Gabriel while I took Eli to a good friend’s house so that he could sleep and later I caught up with Matt and Gabriel in D.C. After a short stay at Children’s, Gabriel was released to our care.
His seizure was determined to be caused by fever. As quickly as he went from being a feisty three year old playing in the leaves in Philadelphia to having a seizure he transformed from being a sick little boy to a hungry, playful three year old far too wide awake for it to be 3am.
Matt and I couldn’t stop looking at each other, reliving the incident, and realizing that yes, we did just make it through the most traumatic day of our lives as parents, if not in our entire life.
We wanted Gabriel to sleep with us so that we could check on him throughout the night. Gabriel took Matt’s spot in bed, Matt squeezed over to mine, and I was on the floor. There are other beds in our house that I could have used, but I really preferred to be near Gabe. I watched as Matt held him, looked into his face and said nothing. I don’t know exactly what he was thinking but I’m sure it was something like “I’m so glad you are here.”
It wasn’t the best birthday ever, but I did get a really great gift . . . more time with Gabriel. It could have all been much worse. Watching him in that seizure and the unconsciousness that followed was the longest fifteen minutes of my life.